


Thy Will Be Done

by screaminghere



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Blasphemy, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 00:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14272701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screaminghere/pseuds/screaminghere
Summary: Sleazy, shady, untrustworthy, everything that describes Richard Tozier.





	Thy Will Be Done

**Author's Note:**

> song: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-v_qBi7prJI

Sleazy, shady, untrustworthy, everything that describes Richard Tozier.

So, he thrives. He thrives on everything that he is; the rat hiding in the hole in the wall, the snake burrowed in the ground, the hyena, cackling even as it’s injured, and like any wild animal he never lets anyone get too comfortable next to him.

Beverly Marsh is similar; she’s running. They’re partners. 

Partners in asking an employee a stupid question while the other shoves packs of cigarettes under their jacket, buying a pack of gum with some money they plucked from someone’s pocket. Partners in sharing secrets, because they’re both nobodies and the secrets of nobodies don’t matter and the secrets that nobodies know don’t matter, either. They’re partners when one of them starts sobbing (never Richie, of course, never Richie) and the other doesn’t ask questions, just holds them, because they’re partners in screaming to God why oh why He would ever create a dad that touches His daughter and a mother that bruises Her son. 

They never talk about it, their well-reasoned adversary to God the Father Almighty, they never talk about it. 

Sleazy, shady, untrustworthy Richie and his partner, Bev. There’s more:

Michael Hanlon is similar; he’ll never let anyone catch him, anyone hold him, anyone try to tell him where he’s supposed to stay. 

Where he’s supposed to stay: at home, with his uncle, with the workers that all look through the same eyes, that all have the same hardened heart, that can shoot a living thing point blank and look at its corpse with envy. Where he is: free. He moves with the wind and the swaying of the grass and the flow of the God-damned stream and his God-damned parents because they didn’t deserve to see their son grow old for some reason that only He knew, the Spirit, the Holy Ghost. With others by his side, he can finally sit around a campfire without the instinct to run. 

Mike keeps it to himself, he builds strength in himself.

Sleazy, shady, untrustworthy Richie, his partner Bev, and Mike, who’s free for the first time in his life. There’s more:

Stanley Uris is similar; suffocated by his own failures, it’s all his fault.

Fathers are motivators, mothers are motivators, as well. He’s so very well and full and motivated and there’s so much motivation that it crowds his lungs so horribly and he can’t help but cough up the disappointment of his parents right onto his newly shined Sunday-shoes. The nausea doesn’t fade no matter how hard he works, how hard he practices, how hard he tries to please Him. The Father, not The Son, but The Spirit, all the same. The Almighty has a reason for pushing him, one of The Almighty’s children, perhaps his divine destiny is to asphyxiate, a sacrifice for The Light, Elohim, Adonai. 

Stan chokes his words. He can never force them out of his clogged throat.

Sleazy, shady, untrustworthy Richie, his partner Bev, Mike the Free, and Stan, sure to run out of air soon. There’s more:

William Denbrough is similar; he’s been absent for some time now, crooked, translucent.

The sound of a train coming into its station, unseen, but it’s coming, it’s coming fast and there’s no way to see it because the walls of the station are blocking it from view and it hasn’t arrived yet. His thoughts can’t catch up to him, he can’t see them, he’s in the dark and no one can find him or his thundering train, despite how loud it is, how fast it is. His brother, lost, just like him, except his brother is gone, too, not only lost. He can still hear the train coming, it’s late, not on schedule, but hopefully (hope is an important word) the train will arrive. His brother’s train crashed. In Him, he can be found. In God, truth rings free, words unsaid can be heard with angelic clarity. Right? Right?

Bill can’t hear his own voice, can’t speak his own thoughts. Everything is so far away.

Sleazy, shady, untrustworthy Richie, his partner Bev, Mike the Free, Breathless Stan, and Lost Bill, but at least he can still hear the train. There’s more:

Benjamin Hanscom is similar; he can’t help but feel that there’s someone after him, something after him.

He keeps moving, he keeps looking back, he turns around because there’s someone there, there’s someone there, there’s someone there, there’s someone- It’s nothing. Nothing he can’t handle, nothing that’s worth his time or his attention, just the shadows, just the wind, not the boys that haunt his scars and their knife that haunts his skin. So silly, childish, even, but he turns around to check, to be sure, always quick to hide. There’s no way to hide from Him, He sees all and He sees the fear and His presence does not lessen the panic or terror. What is He doing? Sitting on a cloud when demons in the form of people torture him. How dare He be The Almighty when He is a coward the same as any of those that He is supposedly King of.

Ben only speaks at night, in his sleep, murmurs and screams. Awake, he’s silent, listening.

Sleazy, shady, untrustworthy Richie, his partner Bev, Mike the Free, Breathless Stan, Lost Bill, and Ben, who will stand his ground in a hurricane, yet quake at a throaty laugh. That’s it. Except, it isn’t.

Edward Kaspbrak is different. God knows why. Richie doesn’t know why. Also, Richie definitely knows why. He’s the add-on to the main characters in the story of Richie’s life, except he’s not, he’s the entire narrative, every reference, every chapter name, every stanza of poetry and every line of a song that Richie listens to on repeat.

Leviticus 18:22, Leviticus 20:13, Romans 1:27, 1 Timothy 1:10. Fuck God and every ounce of His pride. 

Caring, charming, humorous, only a few of the many things that describe Edward Kaspbrak, and he sees every piece of sleazy, shady, untrustworthy Richard Tozier, and he takes him by the hand and tells him to stay the night because he knows that Richie would rather die than go home or ask if he can stay over, he plucks the cigarette from between Richie’s lips and tells him to stop being stupid, he takes Richie’s heart soothes every rough edge and irregular beat.

Why? Eddie is not similar to Richie. 

Eddie sees Richie, sleazy Richie, and looks at him like he’s pure, the cure to an illness that neither of them know the symptoms of. Eddie sees Richie, shady Richie, and looks at him like he’s the light, like he, himself, is The Son, The Messiah, yet also an equal, someone not to worship, but to appreciate. Eddie sees Richie, untrustworthy Richie, and trusts him.

Eddie takes this wild animal, this stray dog with his hackles always raised and his bark always sharp, this person who can’t close his eyes because what does he know of the changes that will have occurred once he opens them again, and he trusts him. Like no one has ever before, not completely, Eddie trusts him, more than Eddie ever trusted Him. 

So, he lives, and he lets someone get a little bit comfortable next to him. There’s more:


End file.
